I Can't Pretend It Doesn't Hurt
by Cakes18
Summary: A peak into the mind of Bella Swan. Secret Diary of this teenage  girl.


Secret diary of a teenage girl.

**A/N: This is something I was playing around with for a while. What if Edward never wanted Bella? :-/ **

I don't recall the exact moment when he started to mean so much to me. Maybe I was twelve years old, or I had just turned thirteen. Either way, what started as a young and innocent crush, turned out to be something that I felt was going to haunt me forever.

At the start, my delusional mind told me that he had felt the same way. However, reality set in and I realized that he didn't. He was far too old for me, and too engrossed with someone else. I couldn't find it in my heart to hate either on of them, so with my poor, naïve, thirteen year old heart, I pushed it aside, and eased the pain by hoping that one day he would change his mind.

I remember when my feelings were _so _strong, that I couldn't even walk past him without my heartbeat increasing. I could have barely touched him, or even look at him. I didn't want my emotions to show through my face. My visage was a mask of seriousness; I barely cracked a smile if I was looking in his direction. I was still insecure back then and worried that he would think me immature or foolish. Being in the same room with him was unbearable, as I always felt that he was staring me down. If I felt that he was watching me, it only made my delusions worse.

If it were possible, I would have liked to have been able to read everyone's mind at the time. I wanted to see if they were aware of my "crush", or if it was as non obvious as I wanted it to be. Questioning glances from his family however, made me doubt that. He knew that I liked him, but he didn't make a joke out of it, which made me fall even more.

What exactly did I like? There's a whole long list. Number one, this being the first thing I noticed, was that he was handsome, maybe even cute. I had liked his hair, and his height, and the sound of his voice. In second place came personality. Since I never spoke to him, I had to rely on observance. He was kind, funny, gentle, and a born leader. The list goes on and on. I loved the way he was so close to God and so in touch with his spirituality. That in itself scored major brownie points.

He interacted well with everyone, especially little children. He never disrespected his elders, his parents or his family. He was even nice to people who were clearly on a path to destroy him. _That _was what I thought anyway. He looked like the ideal person to have as a friend; a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to, jokes to cheer you up or make you laugh, a wise big brother to give you advice. I wanted that too, but my personality didn't allow it. I shied away from boys in general, and my shyness didn't make the situation any better. I took whatever I could have gotten. I spoke to him whenever he spoke to me, I laughed if he made a joke, but not too eagerly.

If he engaged me in conversation, I was completely aloof about it, and looking back on it now, I think I was being rude. I couldn't risk it though. However, looking back on it now, it was partly my fault. As much as I cared and I wanted the very best for him, I just couldn't let him, or anyone else know. I already knew that there wasn't a chance in heaven for me, but actually hearing it would have shattered me. I knew what he saw me as by the way he treated me and by the way he addressed me. There was never any familiarity in our conversation and it annoyed me. My guess was concreted was he turned to me and asked if I was his new sister. On the outside, I smiled and laughed like I was expected to, but on the inside, I finally got what I needed to get a _small start _of a semblance of moving on.

How did I go on about this? I occupied my mind with other boys, boys my age. Andy was on my mind for quite a long time. He was very cute, the son of my mother's co-worker and from what I saw, he was funny and witty as well. His face gradually began to fade from my memory though, because I didn't see him after that. Soon enough, he was forgotten too. The other guy however, nope, he just haunted me in my dreams.

The dreams thing is actually funny though. There was a time where I used to ask God to show me a sign whether he liked me or not, and to me, it always came in the form of a dream. Of course, I was thinking, not because _I _dreamt about him, didn't mean that he _liked_ me. I had that little faith in the possibility of there ever being and "us". Maybe somewhere, deep inside, I knew that it was impossible, it just hurts too much to believe it. I had to get a strategy to detach myself. I had to tell myself that I didn't care and eventually, I wouldn't actually care. So, in order to do that, I did what everyone else did. If he was being annoying and unreasonable, I showed it. If he made a joke, I laughed, just like everyone else did. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I made myself ignore the butterflies I felt if he was too close, or if he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, or if he made a joke with me.

I had to train myself to not blush if I looked in his direction. I trained myself well. I stopped thinking about him during the day. By then, I was almost fifteen, coming out of that awkward stage of my teenage years. If he came up in my thoughts, I pushed him out. I told myself repeatedly that he was like a brother to me. It took almost a year after my infatuation, to reach to that point. I saw him as a big brother, sometimes a cousin. I didn't have that big of a problem with seeing him with _her._ It didn't make me uncomfortable anymore. I could have looked him in the eye, and brush past him, and hold a conversation. I could have laughed without feeling like I was blushing all the time! I had felt so free! Then, at the drop of a hat, all my hard work went in vain. It was his fault, and for a while, I despised him for it.

It started off small. It was a little teasing here and there, making fun of me. I didn't think much of it, because I always had a tendency to over think things like that. I had stopped that and just assumed that he liked to tease me. Then came the light, and I do mean _light _flirting. So, I did what felt natural. I _lightly _flirted back. Things started to look up for me, although I knew I couldn't do much about it because I was only sixteen. He was twenty one. I told myself that when I turned eighteen, things could work out better. It never happened though. One day, I woke up, and the teasing just stopped, abruptly, with absolutely no warning. My feelings resurfaced, again, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do with them. He left me feeling so angry, confused and hurt. For the most part, I was _very, very _angry. All my inner ramblings were shouting, "How could he have done this to me?"

Was I just the naïve little girl to make him get his mind off of her, until she came to his senses and took him back? That was exactly how I felt. After she came back, he turned into a complete jerk. He changed. He had two personalities, maybe even three. The one I liked was only present in sometimes, the friendly but reserved one when she wasn't around, and the complete shit head whenever she resurfaced. I don't know who I disliked more. He yanked me around and then threw me away. Why? Maybe he thought I didn't like him back. That was a pretty stupid thought, because everyone knew that. Was he that blind? Maybe. I just passed it off as jerk-like stupidity. I hated the person he had turned into. Sure, he grew up, but so did I. He changed, but my poor heart didn't really care. It wanted what it wanted, and what it wanted was him.

It was much easier to ignore the discomfort the second time around. I was older, more mature, and he didn't occupy my mind all day. Andrew had come into the picture actually. He was gorgeous, played guitar and piano and had the nicest set of brown eyes. My resolve strengthened. Out went the other boy, in came Andrew. I had liked him instead. This new crush made way for my attraction to guys that play musical instruments, who I find to be simply irresistible. Like all good things, I stopped seeing Andrew, I forgot about him and what he looked like, _but _that doesn't mean I had still been thinking about you know who.

I had other suitors, who I thought to be weird and creepy, so I basically avoided them. He was pretty hard to beat. He was perfect. I got used to them being together again. I tried to be polite to her or around her. Her personality made it hard for me to do that though. When I don't like a person, it's pretty hard to change my mind. I really didn't like her, and it wasn't just because she had him, instead of me. She had an arrogant air about her; she was too disrespectful in my opinion, and a complete idiot. My blood doesn't take too well to idiots. I knew she didn't like me either, and she was very smug about her relationship with him. She knew, and she rubbed it in my face. Guess what made me even more upset; the fact that he didn't do anything about it. I'm sure he enjoyed the fact that I was still oh so strung up on him. I had to get back at them. Either I kill them with kindness, or ignore them. I did both, and guess what? It worked.

She kept her distance, he left me alone. I ignored them and kept to myself. I made a show of being super nice to everyone one else _except _them. I couldn't get that much revenge anyway. A kick or two might have been a big over reaction. I was already physically weak, and there was no need for them to think I was emotionally weak as well. I stayed strong, on the outside anyway.

I had finally gotten back to the point I had wanted to be. He was out of my mind. I didn't care. My feelings were platonic. Maybe this was just a huge misunderstanding, which is why I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. He always seems to do that though. I'm happy and normal, he's far from my thought process, and then he does something, anything, to disrupt my peace. When he finally has me where he wants me, that girl appears out of nowhere. STOP USING ME TO PASS YOUR FREAKING TIME! I HAVE FEELINGS TOO! My anger had reached its limit. My hurt had reached its limit. I officially didn't care anymore, and believe me when I said, it showed. I was pissed off. PISSED OFF! When I eventually cooled down, he kept his distance. He damn well better keep his distance.

I wouldn't have snapped, unless he said something to provoke me, or accused me of something. Like I said, he'd do well to keep his distance.

I told myself I didn't care, but what I meant was that I didn't care what he did anymore. I'm still concerned for his health and wellbeing, his success and his safety. I still pray that he'll do well in all his endeavors. I have to love him, I don't have a choice. I can't say he isn't worth it, because he is. He's worth every single thought and heart string, but I can't do it. I don't know how. How do I fight for someone that doesn't want me? Really though, how do you do it? I know what rejection feels like, and I'm in no position to feel it again. I'm simply not in the mood.

I'll move on, keeping up my façade of not caring. I'll show them all that it doesn't matter to me. I can do all these things, but I can't pretend that it doesn't hurt.

**Xoxo my lovelies. I hope you enjoyed a peak into this girl's mind **


End file.
